


10 - A Firm Hand

by distantstarlight



Series: 31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017, Consensual Sex, Day 10, Declarations Of Love, Discipline, Happy Ending, John loses his temper, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pain Kink, Rough Sex, Sherlock is sorry, Sherlock learns something new about himself, So is John, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 08:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10872777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: Sherlock and John return to 221 B Baker Street where John proceeds to let Sherlock experience what it's like to make him angry.





	10 - A Firm Hand

“You absolute shit!” John was shouting at Sherlock, “Sherlock…” John went on for several minutes but Sherlock deliberately ignored him. Smirking, he made a show of putting in his ear buds and began to listen to music. To his surprise, John ripped them right out of his ears and shouted again, “You want to act like a child? Fine, here’s something that you clearly didn’t get any of when you WERE growing up.”

Sherlock found himself being yanked off the sofa where he’d been indolently lounging, and all the ragged chunks of John’s old jumpers fell off of him, along with the scissors he’d used to cut them to pieces, “What are you going to do, John? _Spank me?_ You’re not my father.”

“Oh? Am I not? Let’s see if you’re calling for your daddy when I’m done with you, you arrogant prick!” John almost fell to the sofa, hauling Sherlock over his knee and even managing to trap one of his arms.

“Oh please John, don’t be pathetic.” He was brazenly sneering at John. Sherlock was in no way prepared to have his pyjama bottoms hauled down along with his pants and he was in no way expecting what happened next. Still sneering he scoffed, “Primitive, John, and sad. I suppose one can’t expect much better from a person clearly _overcompensating_ for his lack of physical as well as social stature. You’re already well beyond your best buy date, John. I was doing you a favour by telling that server that she was too young for you by at least a decade. I don’t imagine that the erectile dysfunction that made so many appearances during your marriage would have impressed her, should you even have had the energy to pursue her all the way into her plush-toy covered bed. Is _brutality_ supposed to make me mend my ways?”

 _SMACK_ “OW! What the hell, John!”

“No, it’s just going to make me feel better,” _John had struck Sherlock_ _’_ _s bare arse!_ “One!” shouted the soldier.

 _SMACK_ “That bloody well hurt, John. I advise you to cease. Immediately!”

“Two!” John’s shout was as loud as the first.

Shock stilled Sherlock until now. _There had been more than enough of that!_ “Let me go, Watson,” Sherlock growled his demand out menacingly, struggling a bit to indicate his desire to be freed. John replied by securing Sherlock with his own legs, easily subduing the wiggling detective, “I will make you _so_ sorry for this, John!” Sherlock was nearly hissing with outrage.

_SMACK_

“Three!” John’s hand was hard and he wasn’t sparing Sherlock a bit. Already he knew that his arse was going to bruise.

 _SMACK_ “Stop, John! This is ridiculous! I’m a grown man, not a disobedient adolescent! Your low self-esteem and poor rating in your recent lover’s bed aren’t my fault. I was just reminding you why chasing after that girl was pointless if you can’t even get it up for her. Therapy clearly hasn’t helped you get beyond the emasculation your marriage made you feel.”

“Four!” John sounded even angrier. Sherlock struggled, using his one free arm viciously, elbowing John hard in the ribs, deliberately targeting the one that had been severely bruised only last week during a case, “You little fucker!” John stopped counting and rained absolute hell on Sherlock arse. Strike after strike landed and Sherlock’s fight became about not letting John know how it was affecting him. _The blows hurt. They stung like bastards in fact._ Both his arse cheeks were treated to full coverage and even the tops of his thighs received more than their share of attention. Sherlock was recollecting sorrowfully how powerful John really was. His size was irrelevant and he privately admitted that he’d spat out his words from jealousy and petty vindictiveness, hurting John for no better reason that he’d been nice to a girl who’d merely brought them their dinners.

He was sorry for not restraining himself when they’d been out because it got worse almost instantly. His arse was hot, burning. Each blow magnified the one that came after it until Sherlock was certain his backside would actually burst into flame. Each time John made contact it forced Sherlock’s groin to press against John’s thigh. Sherlock was struggling with everything in him to escape the pain but also to prevent John from discovering something humiliating that Sherlock was just learning about himself. He’d never felt such intense sensations.

He was so turned on.

It was mortifying to be manhandled by a man so much smaller than he, but undeniably, Sherlock’s cock was hard as stone and it was a wonder John hadn’t noticed how the tip of it kept pressing into his leg. Sherlock bit his lip and tried to keep his moans to himself. “Should have figured.” Now it was John’s turn to sneer, “I should have known. Is this what it takes, Sherlock? Is this what you need?”

John’s blows softened and it was worse. Now his slaps were deliberately provocative. The pain was negligible now but Sherlock's flesh was heated and oversensitive and it didn’t take much. The blows were more like caresses in comparison. Sherlock opened his mouth to threaten John one more time but instead, he moaned, deep and long, his body writhing just a bit so his penis pressed against John’s leg. Sherlock’s thighs spread a tiny amount, his legs still trapped by John but the soldier allowed it, “John! Please.” Sherlock felt feverish and didn’t know what he wanted.

John did.

“So this is the way in, is it?” John was almost crooning, “Is this what you needed? Hmm? Does this stop the cascade of information that is always filling you? Would you like to be filled with something else? Is this why you’ve been such a little shit for the last five weeks? Hmm? Pushing me and pushing me and pushing me because you want this, don’t you, you want me to _make_ you toe the line.” Just like that, John’s unanticipated punishment morphed into something that made Sherlock’s mouth dry. He knew of one sure way to let John know his answer. Sherlock wrenched his trapped arm free and with the other one, reached behind himself and spread his arse cheeks wide, “Good answer, Sherlock.”

Sherlock learned that John was perfectly capable of continuing to manhandle him. He found himself kneeling on the sofa, pants and trousers completely gone, his bare arse pushed back, his hands gripping the back of the sofa, and listened to John spit noisily onto his anus, “Ever done this?” John sounded conversational. Sherlock shook his head, “Don’t worry, I have. Lots of men to fuck in the army, I didn’t mind. I didn’t get the Three Continents nickname by chasing just birds.”

John stuck his tongue into Sherlock’s hole and it made Sherlock squeak in a very undignified way. “I’m going to make you wet. I’m going to push my fingers into you one at a time until I can almost fist you. I’m going to make you wetter still. The moment you are slick enough, I’m going to fuck you so hard you might need A&E. Ready?”

He tried to speak but all he could manage was a kind of grunting agreement so Sherlock nodded vigorously and listened to John tear open a condom packet. _He must keep some in his wallet._ Sherlock’s thoughts were unfocused. _Not very good for their continued integrity but then, John wasn_ _’_ _t going to get him pregnant. Likely, this was just for...FUCK!_

John pushed his index finger right in, “You’re dripping onto the cushions,” he said thoughtfully, “Pain really does it for you. Tell me, Sherlock, how many people have you let into this perfect arse?”

Sherlock shook his head vigorously again, “None.”

John sounded surprised, “None? What about women? Ever a fuck a woman? Irene? She was handy with a crop. Did you have Irene? Tell me the truth, Sherlock. I know she would have let you, she was into you and not exactly subtle about it. That notification of hers, was that the pair of you together? Did you make her come, Sherlock?” Sherlock shook his head. _She_ _’_ _d wanted him but he hadn_ _’_ _t wanted her_. She was brilliant and clever and completely incapable of arousing him even a tiny amount. Sherlock felt more desire for statuary than he did for Irene Adler, not even when she’d cropped his face.

“No one, John, not really.” Sherlock had _never_ wanted to have sex with anyone.

“ _Not really_ means _kind of_.” John was sharp.

“In…in…in public school. All the boys experimented. I…I…I don’t mind fellat…”

John cut him off, “You like to suck cock?”

Sherlock nodded quickly. _He was good at it too but this probably wasn_ _’_ _t the time to mention how he_ _’_ _d earned his drug habit. John was rather old-fashioned in some ways but Sherlock was clean despite it all._ He’d been checked many times since his last sexual transaction because that’s what it had been. He’d never had sex with anyone though he’d caused more than one man to orgasm. “I have some skill.”

“Worked the streets, didn’t you?” John was thoughtful, not judgemental. “I can see that. Your mouth is gorgeous. I’m going to make sure I get to fuck that annoying gob of yours but not until I’ve taken what I want from your pretty pink hole.” John’s direct vulgarity made Sherlock cock twitch and he wanted to touch himself but he didn’t dare. John was unpredictable, a wild card.

Sherlock felt John’s spit-wet thumb press against his anus. John rubbed and pressed firmly, not stopping until the fat digit began to sink into Sherlock’s body reluctantly. He hissed his displeasure but John just laughed, “You’re going to beg me so much. You’re going to love what I do so much you’ll be begging for my cock all the time after this. Screw Adler and her _begging twice_ shite. When I’m done you’ll be willing to beg whenever I feel like it, all for another taste of what I can give you.”

Sherlock was beginning to shake. His body was filled with conflicting signals. John was angry and dangerous. He was deliberately hurting Sherlock and he had to know that Sherlock was fucked up and cross-wired, his transport not caring if it felt pain or pleasure. Either was equally stimulating. “Please John. More.”

“So soon! How did you survive so long Sherlock? Hmm? Do you need my cock in you? Do you want me to push into you and take you and use you and fill you with so much come that it drips out for days?” Sherlock could not stifle the needy moan he released and it made John chuckle, “Oh little boy, are you going to be the sorry one. Forget four fingers. I’m stopping at three. I want to hear you, Sherlock. You let me know exactly what it feels like when I shove my thick fat cock right into this teeny tiny little hole, alright?”

Sherlock bit his own lip. The pain did nothing to cause the pleasure he was feeling to subside. He was going to come any second now. “John.” Sherlock was pleading, warning John that he was close.

“Hold the base of your cock, now.” John ordered, “Pinch. If you come right now I am keeping my cock from you and leaving your arse empty, do you understand?”

 _No no no, he needed it_. “Yes, John.” Eagerly, Sherlock re-arranged himself, putting his head on the back of the sofa to brace himself so he could use his hands to keep himself spread open for John. “Right here, John.”

John wasted no more time. “You make my dick so hard, Sherlock.” Two fingers became the three that were promised. Sherlock heard John spit more than once and it felt filthy and dirty and thrilling. He could feel the wetness of it inside him and all around his anus. “There’s a bit of lube on this, hope it’s enough.” The tone of his voice let Sherlock know that he didn’t care if it was enough or not.

Sherlock forced himself to remain relaxed when John moved close and placed the head of his cock against Sherlock’s entrance, “Scream if you need to.” John whispered and pushed, hard.

Sherlock did shout. The intrusion stung fiercely, each inward nudge making him extremely aware of the frailty of his transport and how much physical damage John could do to it. Gasping he nearly came again, desperately grabbing his cock with one hand to prevent it. “John.” He grated out the name, his voice low and gravelly, “John, I’m going to come. I can’t stop it.”

John’s answer was two resounding slaps on Sherlock’s already sensitive behind. He was squealing, literally squealed in surprise, and flushed furiously at John’s laugh but then the doctor was beginning to move. John wasn’t reckless, he pulled out slowly and then pushed in again. Sherlock realised John was teasing him, drawing it out, not giving him the last few hard thrusts he needed to reach orgasm, “You come when I am done.”

John was cruel and taunting. He kept fucking Sherlock arse until it felt raw and unpleasant. Sherlock’s grunts had more pain than pleasure in them, “John.” Sherlock complained reluctantly but his hole felt like it was burning and torn, the spit not nearly enough to last. To his relief, John lay on his back and reached for Sherlock’s cock, his hips thrusting faster and faster as he gripped the shaft tight. It was enough and with a very undignified grunt, Sherlock felt pleasure so intense his thigh muscles strained and shook as did his hips and belly. He still had one hand on his own arse and he felt his nails digging in as he came and came and came. Distantly he felt John swell a tiny amount inside him and felt the rhythmic throbs of John’s orgasm but he couldn't hear anything right then, the blood pumping through his veins was a roar in his ears as was his own harsh gasps for breath.

John pulled out, removed his condom, and discarded it right there in the living room trash. Sherlock curled up on the sofa, his eyes closed, and struggled to breathe. His body was sore and the pain would get worse very soon. His muscles were gelatinous. His brain was fogged and slow. It was magnificent. He knew he had a ridiculous grin on his face but he couldn’t help himself. As his mind came back online he thought of the last few weeks. He’d been needling John, and if he was honest, everyone around him, for ages now. He’d been ruder than ever, more invasive than ever, and today, Sherlock had made no less than six people cry, including Mrs Hudson when they came home. He realised now that she had been the reason John had finally snapped, “I’ll go apologise as soon as I’ve showered and dressed.”

“You’re better, you little shit, she loves you like a son. She did not deserve what you said to her.” Sherlock felt real shame now. _No, Mrs Hudson did not deserve to have her moral turpitude questioned nor had she deserved to be mocked for falling prey to her late husband's plentiful lies_. Shame turned right into remorse and all his good feelings went with it, “She’ll forgive you, she always does.”

Gingerly, Sherlock managed to sit up but only for a second. John had bruised his behind very thoroughly. Naked and blotchy with a slowly fading sex-blush, Sherlock wobbled to the shower. He was half way through washing up when John joined him, the doctor wordlessly examining Sherlock’s backside and tutting thoughtfully. “Wash up and I’ll get some soothing ointment for the inflammation, and I’ll get a script for something to help heal your anus.”

“If you want, John.” Sherlock didn’t mind the pain, it reminded him of why he’d received such a thrashing first, and then reminded him further about how good it felt after, even if he felt crummy now. He looked right into John’s eyes as they stood naked under the water together, “Thank you, John, for doing that. I was out of control. I went way too far.”

“So did I. If you called the Met to report a sexual assault, I wouldn’t fight it.” John was solemn and Sherlock knew that the doctor was sincere.

“John, I’m the drama queen, not you. While…unconventional…your choice was exactly right. If we’d just argued, I might have ignored you and continued. I might not have stopped until I’d hurt everyone I know, perhaps not even until I’d turned everyone who cares for me away for good. Thank you, John, for being a good enough friend to stop me.”

“I raped you, Sherlock.” John’s gaze didn’t waver, “I beat you and then I raped you.”

Sherlock shrugged, “I consented to the sex and I didn't hate the spanking. Lots of lovers enjoy rough play. I certainly enjoyed it.”

“What I did was completely not right, Sherlock!” John insisted.

“That’s what made it so exciting!” protested Sherlock, “You took me completely by surprise, it was wonderful! I’m likely the only person in the world capable of driving you to such extremes.” He leant down and kissed John tenderly, “You keep me right, John Watson. I’d like to do this again, the sex part, I mean.”

“Well, not any day soon.” John looked rueful, “It’s going to be a week before you sit easily.”

“Now you’re just bragging,” Sherlock said loftily. “I heal fast. Five days at most, then you can spank me again.” He looked slyly at John, “You also didn’t get to try my lovely mouth out.”

John was grinning now, the chagrin and regret leaving his face, “No, I didn’t, did I?”

Sherlock made a decision, “I want this, John. I want you. No more staying apart, or claiming we’re not together. We are…well, I’m with you, anyway.”

John looked sentimental now, “I’m with you too, Sherlock. If you seriously want a physical relationship with me, then yes, I want that too. Have for ages, really.”

“Sorted then. We’re together.” John kissed Sherlock back and they smiled at each other, “Let’s get out. I have a lot of apologies to make.” John helped Sherlock towel off and then, as promised, he helped sooth Sherlock’s bruised flesh, “Thank you for disciplining me, John, I needed it.”

John blushed and looked chagrined but at the same time, a tiny bit proud of himself, “You’re welcome, Sherlock.” He hesitated, “You know I love you, right?”

Sherlock hadn’t and he hadn’t expected to be filled with such a burst of happiness, “It’s mutual John. Very much so.” He embraced John and felt his lover’s arms go around him without hesitation. Sherlock was glad things had happened as they had. John had fixed things in his own particular way and Sherlock knew that they would find their way forward, together.

 

 


End file.
